


New Beginnings

by CSIGurlie07



Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 07:13:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14183682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CSIGurlie07/pseuds/CSIGurlie07
Summary: Will gets to meet one of Magnus' older, more unusual of friends. In the process, he bears witness to something miraculous.[transferred from FFnet; orig. published 8/22/12]





	New Beginnings

Will followed Magnus through the halls of the London Sanctuary, his eyes glued to her in curiosity. This trip was not quite business, not quite leisure; she'd invited him along, and the gleam in her eye told him whatever she had to show him, he couldn't miss out. When he'd asked her about what she had in store for him, she had only given that magnanimous smile of hers that did nothing but leave him even more intrigued than before.

Once on the front steps of the London House, she barely spared a moment to offer a hello to Declan before disappearing into the corridors of the eldest of the Sanctuaries. Will gave the man a shrug of apology, but Declan was wholly unoffended and unsurprised.

"You'll want to catch up," Declan uttered knowingly. His brows lifted, and he gestured after their departing boss. "After you, mate."

Will jogged after her without further prodding, and both he and Declan were able to slip into the elevator behind her just before the doors slid shut.

As the car descended, Will glanced at her, taking in her bright features and curling lips. It had been so long since he'd seen this kind of excitement in her. Ever since… ever since Ashley, her humor had faded, her joy pale under the burden of grief. The light in her eyes was a welcome return, one that Declan had noticed as well. Will knew it in the way his friend's own lips curved upwards as they exchanged a knowing look.

"If you two are done sharing pleasantries," Magnus spoke up, a knowing humor of her own tingeing her words, "shall we proceed?"

Will and Declan grinned as the doors slid open, allowing Magnus to lead the way. Will found himself walking into the bright, newly rebuilt main laboratory, where the tables and computers had been shoved over to one wall, leaving the center of the cavernous room open for two makeshift enclosures. Hay padded the stone floor beneath the enclosures, and in one of the enclosures he spotted a vague golden shape lying on its side on top of the straw. The other enclosure stood open and empty.

They all moved closer to the occupied enclosure, and the golden shape distorted by the overhead lights coalesced into the form of a very pregnant deer. A tall black man knelt at the deer's shoulder, looking up as they approached. "Doctor Magnus, you have arrived just in time."

"How long has she been in labor?" Magnus asked gently, kneeling to press a hand to the deer's neck.

The man grinned, white teeth glinting. "Just over an hour."

"And there's been no sign of distress?" Her free hand ran over the animal's swollen side, which quivered violently under her touch.

Will let the two of them converse, leaving Declan's side to slowly circle the odd trio in the enclosure. After several measured steps, he came around the animal's head, and discovered that it wasn't a deer, but a gazelle. The coloration was undeniable.

"William." Blue eyes looked up towards Will, beckoning him into the enclosure with her. "Come, now," she prompted. "Don't be shy."

"Um, she doesn't… breathe fire, or anything, does she?" he asked warily. "I mean, she looks normal, but in my experience, that doesn't always fly in the Sanctuary…"

Magnus smiled. "No need for concern," she told him. "This is Lucy, and she's perfectly normal."

"Really?" Will's brow furrowed skeptically. It wasn't often a perfectly normal animal called the Sanctuary home.

"Absolutely." The answer was unequivocal.

Will shifted on his feet. "So… is it giving birth to a squid or something?"

"Good heavens, no," she laughed. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Then why—"

Magnus' gaze shifted from him, cutting off Will's questions as efficiently as if she'd slapped some tape over his mouth.

"Here comes the proud father now," she announced, her eyes lighting up as she nodded Will's attention towards the hall. "Perhaps he can answer some of your questions."

Will turned to follow her gaze, and was greeted by the sight of another gazelle being led in by a second employee. As it stiltedly clip-clopped its way closer, Will saw that this one was different. At first glance, it almost seemed normal but on his second take, it clearly wasn't.

Where the female, Lucy, had two horns curling up and back from her forehead, this one had two that were growing close together, and over had time had grown twisted and entwined around each other, eventually narrowing into one lethal-looking point. The end result was the illusion that a single horn sprouted from the center of its forehead.

It struck Will as unusual, even if not distinctly Abnormal. But it caught his attention and prompted him to look closer. As the animal was released into the second enclosure, Will finally realized that the hesitant steps of the gazelle was not a result of skittishness, as he'd assumed, but because it's rear legs were facing the wrong way. It didn't come together until the creature, once free of its tether, turned and revealed its second head—

Will's breath caught in his throat, nearly choking him. Second  _ head _ ? And it didn't end there.

Will had seen two-headed animals before: a two-headed kitten preserved in formaldehyde while on a childhood field trip to a local vet's office, and then of course that Animal Planet special on some two-headed snake living somewhere in Australia or something… But this was unlike anything he'd ever seen.

The two heads were not situated in the way the cat's or the snake's were; there was no left side/right side arrangement. Oh no, here in the Sanctuary, it had to be more dramatic than that. This creature's first head was positioned where any normal head would be, in the front—the second faced the back.

Though, the more Will stared, the more he realized that there was no back. With the rear legs turned around like they were, it was more like the creature had two fronts. Its second head bore the same unique set of twisted horns as it frontal counterpart.

"Holy crap…" Will murmured. Magnus rose to her feet and moved to greet the unusual creature, which trotted over to snuffle excitedly at the partition between the two enclosures. Her hand rubbed the animal's long chin, and the forward head nudged her enthusiastically in greeting.

"Well, he certainly likes you," Will observed.

"I should certainly hope so," she returned easily. "I'm the first human he ever laid eyes on. I've known him all his life." She grinned delightedly, her eyes bouncing lightly between her charge and her protégée. "Will, meet Harrison. Harrison, Will."

At that,  _ both _ heads turned to fix him with a wide-eyed gaze. The sight of it was more than a little disconcerting. There was an intelligence in those black eyes—all four of them. It wasn't quite a human intelligence, like Biggie's. But the discovery of it still startled Will, and he offered a hesitant, wooden wave in the animal's direction. But then the heads turned away, leaving him stunned at the dismissal of both ends of the creature.

"What is it?" he asked.

" _ He _ is what we've come to call a pushmi-pullyu." Her eyes remained glued to the lavish attention she was giving the animal, but her smile didn't fade, which told him she was waiting for his reaction.

_ Great _ . A test.

_ Pushmi-pullyu _ sounded vaguely, naggingly familiar but he pushed that aside for a moment, figuring he'd read it in a report or something. Instead he focused on the name that had obviously been bestowed upon the creature by no other than Magnus.

Harrison, Harrison, Harrison… Will's mind rifled through various celebrity figures who shared the name. Two US presidents immediately came to mind—William Henry Harrison served in 1841, which was before Magnus got to the US. She wouldn't have been more than a child at the time. And then there was Benjamin Harrison, but in the late 1880s, it would have still been too early for her to have had much to do with American presidents.

But that left only actors—Harrison Ford was more familiar, but too recent in Will's opinion. So… Rex Harrison, then, who'd had a film career that spanned almost fifty years. He was also British, which was another plus for him, Will was sure. He'd been in  _ Cleopatra _ ,  _ My Fair Lady, _ and  _ Doctor Dolittle _ —

Wait. "No way."

He couldn't help but let the words slide from his lips. Magnus' grin grew, though she tried to hide it with an innocent raise of her brow, and he knew he'd hit the jackpot. "A  _ pushmi-pullyu?! _ That—That's just not—" He paused then. "Hold on, wasn't the pushmi-pullyu a two-headed llama?"

She arched an elitist brow at him. "In Rex's film, yes. But if you'd ever read the original stories, you'd remember the  _ real _ pushmi-pullyu is described as a conceptual hybridization of unicorn-like gazelle."

Will's brow rose in surprise, then nodded in acceptance. In that case, the description was fairly accurate. He leaned against the top rail of the enclosure, staring the animal with a wry grin. "A real pushmi-pullyu… Is that the scientific name for it then?"

Magnus' head dipped sideways in a show of concession. "Not exactly…"

Will's brows lifted in playful skepticism. She grinned in response, but continued to receive Harrison's attentions as she explained.

"The thing is, until recently, we believed Harrison to be one of a kind. We had no reason to believe he was anything more a fluke of genetics—a mutation of the  _ Gazella dorcas _ species, of which Lucy here is a member. Hugh and I were in Africa—"

"Hugh who?"

She gave a short huff of impatience. "Hugh Lofting, the author of the original Doctor Dolittle stories. He was a civil engineer before he enlisted in the War. He was with me in Africa when we found Harrison. The mother was dead, and Harrison nearly so…"

By now, the beast in question had turned so that the second head could get its fill of Magnus as well. She acquiesced to its not-so-subtle nudges with glad warmth, even scratching the forehead at the base of its horns, which had it pressing against her as if it were a cat.

"What makes Harrison so miraculous," she continued, "is that he is two distinct personalities existing within two distinct minds—but sharing a single body. With most polycephalous animals, there are two common arrangements. Either a dominant head takes lead, or all heads work together towards the shared goal of survival.

"But Harrison is anomalous in that both heads are equally dominant. Even without the expected coordination issues that came with the orientation of his legs, he was continuously working against himself, with both heads trying to move in opposite directions."

Will absorbed the information. He nodded, rubbing his hands together readily. "And let me guess, you adopted him. Them."

She rolled her eyes. "In a manner of speaking, yes. We transported him back here, and through monumental patience and no small amount of flexibility, managed to train him a system of alternating dominance between both heads."

"How does that work?"

"Well, once he was capable of walking, we quickly realized that there was no communication between them. One end would try to go in one direction, and the other would respond by pulling against the force dragging him."

"And you opened the avenues of communication?" Magnus nodded, giving Harrison a proud smile. Will watched the two of them with open curiosity. "So… is it a he, or a them?"

She gave a small laugh. "That's where a small amount of flexibility is still required. He  _ is _ one animal, and when handling him we do not give either personality preference, but the constraints of the English lexicon do require us to bend the concept of singular identity."

Will stared, blinked, and then eventually shook his head. "Wow… that—That just blows my mind."

"Just don't over think it, and you'll be fine," she reassured him. She smiled over at him, and he returned it with one of his own. But then, to his surprise, she moved towards him, leading Harrison along with her. Reaching out, she gently took Will's hand, and guided it under the foremost nose.

"What—?"

"Let him get to know you," she murmured gently.

He obeyed for a moment, but then whispered, "Is he dangerous?"

"He's naturally very docile, and his limited coordination does not lend him any sort of advantage in a conflict," she answered. "But at this proximity, any animal can be dangerous—especially if it sees you as a threat." At his expression of alarm, a gleam sparked in her eye. "He gored a man through the heart, once."

Gingerly, Will moved to take back his hand, but Magnus gripped it tightly, keeping him in place.

"The victim was hardly innocent," she assured him softly. Will sensed there was something else to her words, but she didn't elaborate, and a moment later, his attention was captured by an insistent tapping coming from the far end's left hoof. It was deliberate at first, then more insistent. When the rear head gave an impatient bleat, Magnus clucked sternly at the front end that was stealing the attention.

"Come now, Harrison, don't be selfish."

And then, Will watched in amazement as the gazelle turned, and the second head came around to inspect him curiously. "Wow," he remarked. "I see what you mean. Communication."

Magnus nodded, running a hand along the long spine between them.

"So… are they both Harrison? If they're two different personalities…" Will saw Magnus smile out of the corner of his eye.

"If necessary, we refer to this one as Rex. He is incredibly inquisitive, more so than even Harrison is."

Will swore he could feel an ice cream headache coming on. He took a deep breath. "And why Harrison? Why not name him after that Hugh guy?"

She smiled. "I'd known Rex for years before he took on the role of Dolittle. He knew of my work, and asked for my help in getting into character. I obliged by having him meet these two at one of my private stables in the country. They got on famously— every time we mentioned Rex, fellow perked up like a child at Christmas. It seemed fitting."

Will chuckled. "Figures…" He ran a hand along the soft hair along the creature's neck. Rex's neck. Or was this one Harrison? He shrugged. "But I give myself points for making the connection."

She smirked. "Yes, very impressive."

"Hey, no cracks from the peanut gallery," he warned her, but she only laughed at him in response. But he chuckled too, unable to remain stony faced in light of her mirth. He looked down when Harrison—or was  _ this  _ one Rex?— bumped his hand affectionately, and at Magnus' encouraging nod, he began petting it.

Harrison was so close that Will was afforded an up close look at the horns rising from his forehead. They were almost a foot long, and were straight except for the very tips. The ridged rings that ribbed the two twisted horns seemed to interlock, and Will could only marvel. To see it on one head was miraculous enough, but to see an identical set on the same animal—on a  _ second _ head….

It was days like this that he really loved his job.

"So, you said you had no reason to suspect that this guy was anything more than a genetic fluke—has anything changed? You think he's something more?"

Magnus nodded. "Yes." Her eyes took in the sight of the animal, a light sparkling in her gaze. "I believe he could in fact be the first of a new species."

"How so?"

"Well, his longevity for one," she told him. "On average, his species lives about 15 years in captivity. Harrison is roughly 95 years old." Will whistled, but she merely rolled her eyes at him. "And on top of that, he has no offspring."

Will's brow rose. "Isn't that kinda the opposite of a new species?"

"Well, yes. But he isn't the problem. He's successfully seeded multiple females over the years, but very few ever came to term, and when they did, they died in childbirth. The past few times they came to term, ultrasounds of the females revealed that they carried twins."

Will's eyes widened. " _ All _ of them?"

Magnus smiled. "All of them. All of the females we've been able to perform ultrasounds on."

"And you think the 'twins' could be…"

"The next generation of the pushmi-pullyu. Yes. Yes, I do. And that's why we're here today. If I can help Lucy successfully deliver this fetus, we could literally be witness to the birth of a new species."

Nothing could hide the spark of excitement in her eyes at the thought of being on the verge of a new discovery. Will saw the hunger for knowledge, a look he hadn't seen in months. So much of what they did seemed like business as usual these days, but this was history in the making. And he was honored that she had asked him to be a part of it.

He opened his mouth to tell her so, but before he could say a word, the man still kneeling over Lucy called out.

"Doctor!" The bellow echoed through the cavern, and Harrison's heads both whipped around in alarm, forcing Will to jump back to avoid being scraped by the unusual horn. "It is time!"

Magnus swept over to the larger man, accepting the latex gloves he offered in a meaty palm. Slipping them on, she looked swiftly between the females legs. Sharing a look with the man, she nodded. "She's fully dilated. It's now or never."

Will remained where he was at the edge of the second enclosure. Declan stood off to the side, video camera in hand, documenting what they hoped would be a momentous occasion. At his shoulder, Harrison— _ okay, from now on, he was going calling both heads Harrison _ —watched anxiously, his hooves pawing the straw-covered floor continuously as each head fought for dominance, wanting to see for itself. As a result, the creature was nearly spinning, turning again and again as control shifted from one head to the other.

If not for the pained bleating of the female gazelle, Lucy, Will might have laughed at the picture Harrison made. But as the birth dragged on, Magnus' voice grew strained with growing concern. It wasn't going well. Harrison's disquiet bled over to Will, and he shifted in place as well as he heard his boss call out that the legs were twisted. The hooves were caught.  _ Running out of time, _ she said, her voice tight.

Lucy gave one last, mighty bellow, and Magnus grunted as she pulled in sync with the mother's final push. There was a wet slap as the newborn slipped out onto the floor, and then a rustling as Magnus and her assistant quickly cut the umbilical cord. One look at Lucy had Magnus calling for sutures. The assistant had his hands full with the infant Junior, so Will stepped up, snatching the needle and medical thread from the prepared tray.

"Is she going to be all right?" he asked, crouching down to her level. Their fingers brushed, and blue eyes glanced up to his even as she began to reach for the gazelle.

She was worried. "One of the horns tore through the lateral vaginal wall on its way out. It's deep, but if I can sew it up in time she might have a chance." Her hands were already wrist-deep in Lucy, and though he couldn't see it, Will knew her fingers were already working to suture the gash. Lucy herself lay still, exhausted by the laborious birth. Off to his right, Will heard Harrison snorting and pacing restlessly.

"The kid?"

Magnus shook her head. "I don't know. There were complications…"

"I heard."

She nodded. "Adjo will tend to the little one until I've taken care of Lucy."

Will took a deep breath, urging his racing heart to slow. The worst was over, and Magnus was the best at what she did. If anyone could help both mother and child, it was her. "Need any help?"

Magnus shook her head. "No, but I think Harrison would appreciate some company."

He shot a glance towards the second enclosure, where Harrison stood staring, black eyes wide. His nostrils flared, ribs expanding and contracting as he breathed heavily. He turned sharply, and then Rex was looking at him, gaze darting between Magnus and Lucy and then back to Will.

Will rose to his feet, and crossed the small pen to meet the male gazelle at the barrier between. Gently, he reached out, and Harrison nudged his hand earnestly. The animal's attention alternated between Will and Magnus, but Will took the nudge as encouragement to settle a hand on the creature's neck. They found a sort of steadiness in each other, and as Will's hand stroked Harrison's neck, he felt both himself and the animal calm.

Finally, Magnus sat back on her heels, the back of her wrist swiping wisps of her bangs from her sweaty brow. Will stepped forward. "Magnus…"

"I've done what I can," she said softly. "The rest is up to her." She climbed to her feet. "She's a fighter."

Will left Harrison, crossing to stand at Magnus' side as she turned towards Adjo, whose large bulky body blocked their view of the newborn. Will felt her pull in a deep breath, her exhaustion sudden but evident. "Adjo…"

At the sound of her voice, the man turned, his features solemn. "Doctor…" He twisted more fully, revealing a small blanket-shrouded form lying curled on the floor.

" _ Bloody Hell _ …" Magnus' voice nearly crumbled under the weight of impending tears. Will's hand came up to touch her shoulder, offering her silent comfort. Her eyes closed, lips tightening.

Harrison snorted loudly. And then he snorted again, stamping his foot for emphasis when no one took notice. Magnus' head finally turned, eyes bright with tears, and Will followed her glance to see Harrison's heads tossing and shaking in a growing fury.

"Oh, Harrison…" Magnus sighed shakily. Her shoulders slumped under Will's hand.

Harrison bleated, and then Will heard a rustle that was neither Harrison nor Lucy. He focused on the shrouded form, and his heart nearly stopped when he saw the blanket shift. Adjo hadn't been anywhere near close enough to touch it.

His fingers tightened on Magnus' shoulder. "Magnus…"

She turned, immediately sensing his alarm. Then she froze when the blanket twitched, exposing a questing black nose. Adjo pulled the blanket back, revealing a single, damp body and two distinct, squirming heads. Small eyes squinted against the light, but already the newborn was gaining strength. Together Will and Magnus watched both heads lift, sniffing the new air curiously. He could feel Magnus nearly bursting with returned anticipation, but somehow she refrained from moving. She simply observed, her eyes taking in everything.

Will glanced over her shoulder, and Declan grinned at him from behind the camera. The Brit shot him an exuberant thumbs-up.

Turning back, Junior was twisting, his thin, spindly legs scraping against the straw. Will leaned towards Magnus. "Is it trying to get up?" he murmured softly. She nodded, eyes glued to the newborn. "Is that normal?"

"It's a survival mechanism. The faster they find their feet, the sooner they can run from predators." She nodded. "Harrison was the same way."

Will acknowledged the information with a nod, but it didn't keep the tension from building in his chest as he watched the kid struggle and writhe. He could see what was wrong, it was what Magnus had described earlier. Both ends were fighting each other, as though unaware of each other—as if they were two two-legged creatures, stuck together in the middle. He imagined it would take a considerable amount of rehabilitation to get the kid upright and able to walk as well as its father.

Said father huffed impatiently, pawing at the ground. Magnus looked at her long-time friend, then crossed towards the barrier. With nimble fingers she disassembled a section of the fence, sliding it aside to give Harrison access to the enclosure. The pushmi-pullyu wasted no time in approaching his offspring, circling it slowly as all four heads got to know each other. The younger of the two nearly rolled onto its back as it tried to follow its father only to get in its own way.

"Dear Lord," Magnus whispered, her shoulder brushing Will's as they both continued to watch. They glanced at one another, both grinning as relief washed over them in a cool wave. Her eyes still glistened, but now with tears of wonder instead of heartbreak. "Unbelievable…"

Will opened his mouth to respond, only to freeze when Harrison fell still. Both heads watched the struggles of his kid, then snorted. One head, Rex maybe, nudged the fawn to get its attention, then lowered himself to the straw. Harrison followed reluctantly, until his whole body as lying down on the floor beside the little one.

He only stayed there a moment though, before Harrison decided he wanted to check out Lucy. Harrison gathered his feet under him, legs straightening until his head was high in the air. He strained for a moment, gave a sharp bleat. Finally, Rex followed.

Both hooves pointedly clopped on the floor as they planted themselves on the floor, and then heaved himself up. Junior stared as his father stalked away, smoothly moving to investigate the still panting Lucy.

Magnus almost gasped, her hand coming up to press against the small of Will's back. Together they watched one set of tiny legs curl under the infant's body, then the other. With a concentrated effort, the little guy struggled to get to its feet. And he did. Slowly, shakily, those twiggy little legs somehow worked together to heave one end up, making room for the second to do the same.

It seemed a Herculean feat, but the kid finally heaved himself to its feet. A moment later it toppled over again, but Magnus still nearly choked at the sight of it. It took several more tries, but in the end it was able to keep itself on its feet for a long set of moments.

Will turned to Magnus, and was shocked to see a tear trailing down her cheek. The back of her hand pressed against her lips, fighting to silence the emotion he knew must be even more considerable than what he felt. It was in that moment that he was able to comprehend what it was that he was seeing.

The birth of a new species. The kid was the very image of its father, from the orientation of its legs to the tip of its nubby little horns. And the painstaking care Magnus had taken with Harrison so many years ago was now learned behavior, taught from father to kid as naturally as if they were out in the middle of the African steppe. And the speed at which they learned… Magnus had mentioned Harrison was intelligent, but this… It was unbelievable.

Without thinking, he twisted to wrap his arms around Magnus, pulling her into a fierce hug. To his surprise, she laughed and returned the embrace enthusiastically. They were happy; happy and proud and a whole lot of something Will couldn't put a name to. Pulling away, Magnus swiped at her eyes before turning to share a similar hug with Adjo, who'd come over to congratulate her.

"Well done," she murmured. A moment later, she pulled away, and tried her best to curb her smile enough to get back to business. "Get these two settled in their habitat," she instructed. Adjo nodded his understanding. "I'll take care of Lucy."

Hours later, Will and Declan were lounging in the study upstairs, both enjoying tumblers of amber scotch. The good stuff. The stuff they saved for celebratory moments like this. They were sitting quietly when Magnus glided in, her features ruddy with exhaustion and contentment.

She plopped down on the plush couch with a grace only she could possess, and accepted a snifter of her own with a nod to Declan.

"How is everyone?" the Head of the London House asked.

Magnus swallowed her first sip before answering. "Lucy's stable, for now. We've got her sedated, to let her rest. Harrison and the little one are resting as well. Adjo will keep an eye on them tonight."

"All right," Will announced brashly, leaning forward. "I gotta ask… is it a girl or boy?"

Blue eyes danced between the two men, playfully hesitating. "A boy."

Will barked a loud "Hah!" and pointed to Declan. "Fifty bucks, man. Pay up."

Declan waved him off, completely unconcerned with the loss. He turned to focus on Magnus instead. "Have you chosen a name yet?"

Magnus smirked, but ultimately shook her head. "No, not yet."

"Looking for suggestions then?" Declan quipped. "We could help, you know." Magnus brows lifted warily. "We got some great ideas. Like… Bambi."

"Yeah, then you could call him Bam-Bam for short," Will chimed in. "Or, you know, Bam 1 and Bam 2."

"Absolutely not—"

"Or, you know, it's almost December," Will pointed out. He shared a knowingly look with Declan. "You know what that means…"

Declan nodded.

"Rudy," they delivered together, deadpan even as Magnus threw her head back and laughed.

"Good heavens, no!" she denied them, chuckling from behind a broad grin. "No. Just…" She sliced her hand through the air. "No."

Will sat back, conceding the battle. But a moment later, he took another swallow of his drink, and regarded Magnus with a serious eye. "In all seriousness, though, I do have an idea."

Magnus took a deep breath, steeling herself good-naturedly. "All right. Let's hear it."

"What about something like Hughie?"

That made her pause, considering it. In the end, she nodded, lips pursing thoughtfully. "I like it," she decided. She nodded again, more sure. He was glad—he'd anticipated her appreciation of her homage to her old friend. "It fits."

"The other end could be Dewie or Stewie." He just couldn't help himself. He almost managed to say with a straight face.

Magnus chuckled, but buried her nose in the snifter as she busied herself in taking another sip. He took it to mean she'd think it over.

They conversed for hours, long after the sun set and the fire become their only light. Eventually, Declan called it quits, bidding them a good night around a yawn and leaving the two of them to sit in the shifting shadows alone.

Silence wrapped them in a warm embrace, and they sat comfortably for several long minutes in the quiet. Will looked a Magnus, witnessed the peace that seemed to surround her. Finally, for the first time since Ashley's death, she seemed the most like her old self—like the Helen Magnus he'd first met on a rainy street in Old City.

"You seem happy," he said softly. His finger traced the edge of his glass, but his eyes remained on her, registering her warm acknowledgement.

She nodded. "I am," she confessed. Her gaze remained fixed somewhere in the depths of the night. "We did well today."

"You were amazing," he confirmed. He blinked. "Lucy was amazing. And Harrison—Magnus, I can barely wrap my head around it."

Her lips curled in a smile. "It has been a day of discovery, I'll give you that."

"It was incredible." He paused. "You know, there are some days, with what we do… we've been protecting the world a lot lately. Keeping things under wraps, and for good reason, but… Today—I just want to scream it from the rooftops."

Blue eyes traveled to meet his, and in them he saw the same impulse. In contrast, his own joy seemed to pale. This was her life's work. She'd devoted so many years, so many lives to her mission—but she wouldn't be able to share it with the world. With a select sphere of people, yeah, but to academia at large? No way. Maybe not ever.

"There will be a day where we will be able to scream to our heart's content, Will." Her voice was gentle, but there was underlying current of passion that made her words sizzle. "It may not be tomorrow, or next year, or even in the next decade. But some day, it will. Of that I am completely certain."

Will nodded, ducking his chin. "I just hope that when it does, I'll be alive to see it."

Her hand settled warmly on his knee. "Me too."

God, he hated it when she did that—when she fed into his introspective musings of personal aging inadequacies. It was better when she patted him on the head and dismissed it as childish concern. But this time, he supposed it spoke more to her mindset than to his. Did she really think that day of revelation so long in coming?

He swallowed, and moved on with a solid grin. "Just as well anyway. No one would believe a real live pushmi-pullyu anyway."

She chuckled, seemingly glad for the dispelled gloom. "You're absolutely right. They'd only ask why Harrison couldn't be a llama."

Will smiled, but said nothing. His hand covered hers, their fingers curling to interlock in a warm grip. Together, they sat back and watched the flames dance a shadowplay across the walls.


End file.
